


Show Me Your Teeth

by Cry_Havoc



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Genderswap, Kink Meme, M/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cry_Havoc/pseuds/Cry_Havoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for the anonymous kink meme. Prompt: One or both are girls (explained or unexplained, author's decision), the girl wears the strap on to fuck the other. With as much powerplay, dirty talk, obedience kink as can be worked in!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me Your Teeth

It's mid-morning by the time Brad gets back in from running errands. He stopped at Wal*Mart for a few things on the way back: steaks for this evening, more filters for the coffee machine now that Ray's staying in all day. He nudges the kitchen door open with his hip, and sighs to see Ray slumped over the counter, looking tiny in a Recon hoodie, a pair of grey sweats falling low enough in the leg to cover his feet. His hair's growing out and over his eyes, and his newly long, thick lashes make him look ridiculously cute. Brad's had to struggle to refrain from saying so.

"I bought you some underwear," Brad tells him, fishing the package out of the bag and handing it over. He's gone for plain black girl boxers, and must have looked like an idiot standing in the store trying to estimate the measurement of Ray's new hips and find the corresponding size. "Figured you might need some, in case it becomes… more permanent."

Ray raises his head at that, expression fixed in an approximation of a glare. He looks utterly exhausted, almost lost within his own skin.

"Thanks," he mutters, sourly, staring at the packaging, but making no move to touch it.

"Ray?" Brad puts just enough of a warning tone into his voice to make Ray look at him clearly, sulky expression momentarily lost. "You can't keep moping like this."

"I'm a girl, homes!" Ray shouts, sliding off the stool and attempting to get all up in Brad's space. "I went to sleep a man and woke up a girl! You expect me to just deal with this shit? Look, Brad," Ray tugs the waistband of the hoodie up, pulling the strings that hold his sweats up until he can drop them to his knees, "I've got a fucking pussy. And tits! You think you'd be calm if someone stole your dick!?"

Brad looks down, forces his expression to remain impassive at the sight of soft, pale thighs and sharp, skinny hip-bones barely covered by the lacy knickers Ray had found kicking around. He smells warm and clean, the scar on his belly from rough-housing with a K-Bar in Iraq looking incongruous against the otherwise smooth skin.

Ray hasn't let him touch yet. He's banished himself to the spare room, hiding under three duvets and usually refusing to come out other than to snag food from the kitchen, and drink cup after cup coffee.

"What the fuck do I do now Brad?" Ray asks, softly, dragging his hands through his hair until it's all mussed up. He looks good as a girl, Brad thinks; he's still skinny and sharp, hip bones sticking out sharply. Brad wants to cup them in his hands, just to see the fit, imagines bending Ray over the breakfast bar and sliding the scrap of lace off his ass. He wonders if Ray would be wet, open for him. He's not stupid enough to imagine that Ray hasn't explored himself.

"Hello!" Ray waves and angry hand in front of Brad's face, tugging his sweats back up with one hand. "RTO with a severely fucked up problem here, Iceman."

"Well, I don't exactly have experience with this either!" Ray's still up in his space, and from this angle, Brad can see straight down the front of his hoodie. His new breasts aren't big, they'd barely fill Brad's hands, but they're high on his chest, almost perfectly round.

"We need to buy you some bras," he thinks out loud.

"Jesus Christ!" Ray shouts, his fist connecting with Brad's jaw in frustration. It's nothing for Brad to catch his wrist, turn him so that he can pull Ray's back against his own chest to restrain him. Ray struggles for a second, but they both know it's futile. His wrist feels tiny and fragile in Brad's hand, and he loosens his grip without properly letting go, stroking the pad of his thumb over Ray's pulse. He feels as much as hears the tiny hitch of breath that causes.

That's... interesting. Brad releases his other hands from where it grips Ray's throat, trailing his fingers ever so slowly down until he can rest a palm on Ray's stomach. He can just feel the jut of Ray's hip-bones under his fingers.

"Brad." Ray's voice is shaky as he tugs his hand free, uses it to guide Brad's hand up under his hoodie, until Brad's fingertips brush against soft, warm skin.

"Ray?" Brad knows his voice is strained, can hear it cracking as he strokes slowly across Ray's belly, listens to the soft intake of breath it causes. He wants to grab, to pull Ray back around and kiss him, shove him up against the counter and strip him bare, but it’s too much, and too soon. Instead, when Ray pulls away, Brad lets him, breathes deeply in through his nose as Ray turns around and gets all up in Brad’s space again.

His mouth is smaller now, and it’s awkward for a second, as though they don’t quite fit together any more. Ray’s still as insistent as ever though, pushing Brad back and tugging his head down until their mouths are aligned. Brad licks in more slowly, trying to work out if Ray tastes the same and then getting distracted by how warm Ray is against him. He lets his hands slide down to Ray’s hips, finally gets to cradle them in his palms, thumb running gently against the sharp ridge there.

Ray purrs. He’s never been one for patience, but his insistent squirming is almost too much, kisses frantic and artless, fingernails digging into Brad’s shoulders, clutching at his T-shirt. They need to slow it down. Then Ray bites at Brad’s neck, and all bets are off. He leans down and grabs Ray’s thighs, picking him up bodily, and ignoring Ray’s protest in favour of walking them through to the bedroom.

He lays Ray down on the dark blue sheets and crawls up between his thighs. Ray’s arms snake back around his neck, pulling him close, seeking the contact between them.

“Too fast?” Brad asks, resting his weight on his forearms and giving Ray just enough room to escape should he need it. There’s a second of defiance in the deep brown eyes that glare back at him, but then Ray’s biting down on his lower lip, nodding his head just the once.

“Stay!” He commands when Brad goes to pull away, and for a moment he looks so vulnerable that Brad doesn’t know what to do with him. He settles for moving them both around until they’re spooned on the bed and he can wrap himself all the way around Ray’s tiny new frame. If he didn’t know better, he’d accuse Ray of cuddling in, his spine curving and his ass pressing into Brad’s hips.

“Do you think it’s permanent?” Ray asks after a long while, and Brad wonders for himself, fingers tracing absent circles over the outside of Ray’s sweat pant-clad thigh.

“No,” he declares eventually, and feels Ray nod again, more decisively this time, before he’s squirming again, turning himself over on the bed until they’re nose to nose.

Their kisses are slower this time, more deliberate, and Brad lets Ray push him back on the bed, scramble on top and run his hands through Brad’s hair. His lips are plump now, smooth, but his tongue is as skilful as ever. It’s patently unfair that he still knows every one of Brad’s soft spots while they haven’t discovered any of his yet.

Brad lets his hands come to rest on the small of Ray’s back, slips his fingers up under the hoodie and starts to stroke softly. He had an ex who purred like a kitten when he did this, and as he explores, and he concentrates on running patterns up and down, waiting until Ray shivers and goes still.

There. Just under where his bra would be. Brad strokes a spiral, the slightest pressure, and Ray makes the most pathetic mewling sound, tensing slightly before going completely limp on top of him.

“You like that?” Brad teases, and Ray bites at his throat in response, sending Brad’s hips arching up off the bed. And then it’s game on, and he’s rolling Ray onto his back, tugging the hoodie up and out of the way until Ray’s breasts are bared. His nipples are perky, and hard. Brad runs his tongue over them, watching Ray’s face all the while. He doesn’t get a reaction until he bites down, and Ray’s fingers clutch tight at his hair, keep his face still as Ray groans and shifts his hips about restlessly.

Brad’s careful to take his time, explores all the places on Ray’s stomach that make him shudder and moan. Something about his belly button is very distracting, and he wastes endless minutes tracing a circle around it until Ray gets impatient and pushes his hand away.

“Fucking tease!”

“Easy Ray, we’re just getting to the good part,” Brad promises, shifting himself back until he’s kneeling between Ray’s thighs. The sweat pants are riding perilously slow on his hips by this point, but Brad glances back up at Ray’s face before he touches. There’s something in the back of mind that says he’s getting close to his limit, that Ray will lose his nerve any minute now.

The scrap of blue lace barely covers Ray now, and Brad peels the soft sweats away slowly, soaks up the sight of darker material where Ray is slick with it. With any other girl, he’d pull the knickers off with his teeth, dive straight in with his tongue and his fingers, but this is too different, too strange.

Ray makes the decision for him, tired of waiting, pushing the lace off his hips and kicking it out of the way, until suddenly he’s laid bare, just a soft tangle of dark hair and Brad can smell how aroused he is.

“Oh,” he breathes, and feels Ray’s thighs tense up around him, as if to press them closed. He holds his breath, in case this is it, and Ray refuses to meet his eyes for a long minute, glaring at the ceiling as if in a fierce argument.

“Ray?” he asks.

“I’m not ready to fuck.” Ray decides. “No dicks. I don’t… I’m just not ready.”

“OK,” Brad promises. It’s better than he’d expected, and he presses a wet kiss onto Ray’s knee to tell him so.

He starts out slow, runs his thumbs up the seam of Ray’s thighs a few times and spreads him gently. It takes him a moment to fully comprehend that Ray’s never been touched like this before. He’s pink on the inside, slightly slick and smelling of warmth. Brad’s mouth waters as he leans in, tries to work out where to start. He goes for one careful broad stroke, tip of his tongue barely ghosting over Ray’s clit and then jumping out of the way as Ray’s thighs snap closed.

“Jesus fucking Christ homes!” Ray shouts, back arched up off the bed. “Oh my God, Brad, do that again.”

Brad leans closer again, hands on Ray’s thighs to steady them, and licks carefully over Ray’s clit, feeling the tension in the muscles under his hands. Ray shudders, hips shifting a little, and Brad goes with it, changing the angle and the pressure until Ray begins to make soft, desperate noises.

He learns that Ray likes circles with the tip of his tongue on his clit, gentle waves of pressure, never lingering too long. Ray babbles above him, a hand resting in Brad’s hair, tightening to the point of pain whenever Brad does something that feels exceptionally good. He can feel the tension building in Ray’s thighs, knows the other man is holding out against his orgasm.

“C’mon Ray,” he coaxes, tongue starting to ache as he puts it back to work, firmer pressure and tighter circles winding Ray tighter and tighter. He feels the vibration in Ray’s thighs first, the wordless cry as the orgasm is ripped out of him, leaving him shaking violently, thighs doing their best to strangle Brad for a second before he manages to pull away.

When he sits back, Brad notices that Ray’s eyes are damp, his free hand wound tight into the bed covers as though hanging on for dear life. Strong shudders wrack his tiny body whenever Ray presses his thighs together, and Brad eases a hand up onto Ray’s thigh, soothes his thumb over the jut of the bone there.

“OK?” he asks after a long while.

“That was fucking intense!” Ray declares, slowly opening his legs again and experimentally touching his swollen clit. “Just… fuck.”

He’s too sensitive to touch again, flinching uncomfortably when Brad leans back down.

“C’mere,” he says instead, beckoning Brad close. Brad moves slowly until he’s straddling Ray’s waist, and Ray’s grin is predatory as his hands skim down Brad’s jeans tugging his fly open and palming Brad’s cock through his boxers.

He doesn’t even bother waiting for Brad to strip, just pulls him free and strokes a couple of times before his mouth’s open and he’s sucking Brad down, all heat and slickness and Ray’s clever, knowing tongue.

It only takes a few minutes. Ray knows Brad’s body better than he knows his own, and he employs every dirty trick Brad’s ever seen from him and probably a few he learnt from Walt. When Ray’s tiny, delicate hand comes up to caress Brad’s ball, Brad loses it, arching his back as he tugs on Ray’s hair, spilling hot and fast down Ray’s throat.

The sight of Ray looking up at him through those ridiculous eyelashes as he swallows demurely is too much, and Brad pulls out gently to collapse down onto the bed.

“What am I going to do?” he asks the ceiling.

***

Brad cooks the steaks slowly on the skillet, rubbing seasoning into them and letting them sear until the smell of them fills the kitchen. Ray’s taken up his usual spot at the breakfast bar, still looking like a lost little kid in the clothes that are far too big for him. In between ranting at the newspaper, he worries his lower lip with his teeth, and the skin there is ragged and slightly torn. Brad doesn’t know how to make him stop. Ray always been the happy one, the one who bullshits the bullshit and doesn’t let it drag him down. There’s no protocol for dealing with this, and Brad’s damned if he knows what to do next.

He settles for serving up the stakes. At least Ray still eats like a Recon Marine, sauce and grease smeared all over the lower part of his face.  
“You’d never pass for girl, you dirty hick,” Brad tells him, handing over a sheet of kitchen towel for Ray to wipe his face on.

“I’m a prettier girl than you!” Ray counters, mouth still half full of potato. “You’re just jealous Brad.”

The chill of the AC has made Ray’s nipples hard. Brad can see them poking through the thin cotton of Ray’s t-shirt. A small part of his mind wonders what it would be like to keep Ray like this, a girl who really isn’t, who understands everything Brad needs without the danger of breaking the UCMJ. It’s a tempting idea, but it’s not fair on Ray, and Brad swallows the last bite of his steak resolutely. They have to find a way to fix Ray, for both of their sanity.

They leave the dishes in the sink because Ray has suddenly become an activist for female rights that do not involve the kitchen, and retire the sitting room with beer. It’s achingly familiar until Ray settles himself into the corner, kicking his legs up and into Brad’s lap.

“Do you think it’s permanent?” he asks quietly.

“No,” Brad says too quickly and Ray glares at him crossly, not in the mood for meaningless platitudes.

“I emailed Steve today. I told him I wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week.” Ray’s avoiding his eyes, fiddling with the cover on the arm of the sofa that he’s leaning against.

“Well it buys you time. I think this is something we’re going to have to wait out.”

“We?” Ray looks up at that, his face carefully blank.

“We.” Brad nods firmly, holding tight to one of Ray’s bare feet.

“Still not letting you fuck me!” Ray sing-songs, grinning widely to himself as he snatches the TV remote.

***

It’s not until Brad’s actually standing in front of a rack of harnesses that he realises he has no idea how big Ray’s new hips are. He contemplates how the felt under his hands for a moment, and tries holding his hands out in front of him, until he realises how much of an idiot he must look, and drops them to his sides again.

He’s fairly familiar with how the equipment works, there had been Kayla that one time after all, but he’s slowly realising that he has no idea where to start.

“Need any help?” A slight, blonde-haired girl wanders up unobtrusively, dressed in plain black and with the professional, slightly bored, look of someone who has been employed in a sex shop for a long, long time.

“What would you suggest for a starter harness?” Brad asks, keeping to technicalities, and distinctly not thinking about the purpose the harness itself will serve in the very near future.

“For simplicity and ease of use, I’d choose this one,” the girl stretches up onto her toes and gathers a harness set off the peg. It’s a supple black leather with a strap for each thigh and another that runs around the waist. “It’s padded here, so it will be comfortable.” She turns it inside out, and shows him the padding, “And the O ring here is fully detachable, you can use a lot of different toys with it.” There are strong-looking clips holding it in place that Brad decides he approves of. “This model comes with a built in pouch for a bullet vibe,” she explains, sliding the pouch open and showing him the tiny silver vibe. “It’s remote operated and unobtrusive, but it’s plenty powerful.”

“OK,” Brad agrees, taking the harness when she offers it up and turning it over in his hands, feeling how soft the leather is, working out how it will fit around Ray.

“There are three standard sizes,” the salesgirl continues, “If your girl is reasonably straight up and down, I’d recommend this size.”

Brad looks up at her for a second, and she looks back at him questioningly, looking as though she might back away any second.

“Sorry.” Brad makes a deliberate effort to soften his gaze, too used to the fear of being found out. “I’m not used to being so out of my depth.”

“That’s OK, I’m here to help you find everything you need.” She’s smiling again now, and Brad nods for her to continue her teaching.

“Your best bet is a set of O rings to go with it, for maximum adaptability. The flexible rings fit more toys, but the metal is stronger and gives a firmer hold.” She passes the set of rings to him and starts off down the aisle to where a selection of dildos are arranged on shelves. “This part’s more up to you, but I’d suggest not starting too big. It takes a while to learn to control everything.”

Brad nods, trying to scan the shelves with a critical eye, ignoring the lurid colours and some of the more interesting shapes. With some help from the salesgirl, he eventually picks two compatible dildos, a plain, medium-sized blue one, and a flesh-coloured one that he thinks is pretty close to Ray’s original. That’s a weird thought, and he’s glad when he finally manages to pay for it all and climb back onto his bike to escape.

***

“I bought you a present,” he tells Ray when they’re done with dinner. Ray’s still a little sulky and mistrusting, though he’s learnt how to pout, and it just does something to Brad.

“More underwear?” he asks, mocking, “I’m not a doll, homes, you don’t get to play dress up.”

“More fun than underwear,” Brad promises, and Ray glares in suspicion. His interest is piqued.

“Well?” He prompts.

“Do the dishes, and then come find me.” Ray spits at that, throws a dish cloth at Brad and begins another tirade about how women who are not actually women do not belong in the kitchen, and how if Brad ever dares ask him for another sandwich, Ray will ram it down his throat. Possibly with a very large knife. Brad’s kind of stopped listening.

He excuses himself to the bedroom and digs the bag out of the closet. The harness looks slightly more intimidating now that it’s at home, and he takes a moment to arrange it to his liking, calming his fingers by checking all the fittings. The remote for the bullet vibe is carefully hidden in the dresser where Ray won’t spot it.

“This had better be a good present,” Ray warns, barging in through the door and stopping short. He stares at the harness for a minute before grinning. “You bought me a dick!”

“Figured you were missing yours.” Brad shrugs, concentrating on not looking too pleased with himself. There’s a silence that goes on for a beat too long before Ray’s all up in his space, turning the harness over in his hands and messing the straps up as he does it.

Brad bats his hands away, takes the harness back and sorts it out again. By the time he turns around, Ray’s stripped down, and he has the usual split second’s shock of seeing Ray’s breasts again.

“Stop drooling and help me into it,” Ray orders, tugging the harness that’s still in Brad’s hands. The blue dildo sits in it the best and Brad’s left that one attached. He kneels on the floor and helps Ray step into the contraption, sliding the straps up his thighs and looping the other around his waist. The dark leather is a beautiful contrast against Ray’s pale skin.

The thigh straps buckle snugly, and Brag slips a finger under them to test the fit. He slides a fingertip through Ray’s wetness while he’s there, but Ray tugs his hands away, adjusts the waist straps himself. He can’t resist giving the dildo a stroke, and Brad watches the pleasure flutter in Ray’s eyes as he rocks back onto his toes.

“Stay there,” Ray orders, placing a hand on Brad’s shoulder and digging his fingers into the muscle there. This is going to be more fun than Brad had bargained on. He obediently remains on his knees, settling his weight back down and watching Ray stroke his fake cock, getting used to the new length and girth.

“Suck it.” There’s a wicked little smile on Ray’s face as he presses the head of the dildo against Brad’s lips. The latex is rigid, and Brad grins softly, refusing to give in that easily. Ray just reaches down and catches his jaw, pressing a thumb in just so, and Brad opens up, lets Ray press into his mouth. The fake cock is cold and tastes of rubber. Brad slurps it down enthusiastically all the same, pushes it slightly against Ray so that it rubs over his clit until he makes soft, pleased sounds. 

Ray’s hand comes to rest on the back of Brad’s neck, guiding him, and Brad just goes with it, ignores technique in favour of exerting the right amount of pressure and the right speed to make Ray’s knees start to shake. The sounds Ray’s making run straight down Brad’s spine, and he sucks enthusiastically, pushes Ray as hard as he dares. 

Ray’s not up to multiples, not just yet; one good orgasm puts him out of action for at least half an hour, and they both want to play with Ray’s new dick. He tugs hard at Brad’s hair and pushes his mouth away, collapsing backwards onto the bed and breathing hard.

“Close?” Brad asks, sliding his hands up Ray’s thighs and sliding the tips of his fingers across the creases where Ray’s legs meet his arse. He’s slick with it, the straps of the harness tight against the soft skin of his thighs.

“Let me fuck you.” Ray’s fingers tangle in Brad’s hair, tugging him closer to the bed.

“Yes,” Brad tells him, standing up and stripping frantically, fishing the lube out of the top drawer once he’s done. He kneels on the bottom of the bed, fumbling the cap open and beginning to coat his fingers when Ray grabs his wrist.

“Let me do it.” His eyes are almost pupil, dark with need, and Brad can smell his slickness, imagines Ray sinking deep into in him again with that clever little bullet humming against his clit.

“Turn over,” Ray orders, pushing Brad around with his hands until he’s on his front, his face shoved into the pillows at the top of the bed. Ray’s new body is even scrawnier than his usual one, but Brad lets him be pushy, moves where Ray’s hands push him without resistance. “Good.” It’s almost a purr, and Ray strokes over Brad’s ass possessively, forcing Brad’s thighs apart with his knees.

He doesn’t bother with lube at first, just leans down and licks a wide wet stripe right up Brad’s crack. It’s totally cheating because Ray’s always had a wicked mouth, always known how to spread Brad’s ass wide with his hands, fingers digging hard into the muscle as he takes Brad apart with his tongue.

“Oh,” Ray murmurs, and Brad feels him shift on the bed, adjusting how his weight sits before he leans down to rim Brad properly. He can’t help the moan that escapes when Ray’s tongue spirals in and pushes hard against the tight ring of muscle. “Yeah, I know you like that.” 

Brad loves how the dirty talk still just rolls off Ray’s tongue. He almost whines when Ray pulls away, but the gentle snick as Ray pops the lube open soothes him, and he’s rewarded by a slim fingers sinking deep into his ass.

Ray fucks him slowly with two fingers, sliding them in and out, teasing Brad with the promise of dick but holding it all just out of his reach. The fingers feel good, but they’re nowhere near enough, and Brad cranes his neck around, grins at how absorbed Ray has become in the slide of his own teasing, his free hand curled around the fake dick, stroking in the same rhythm. 

The distraction gives Brad just enough time to reach across and snag the remote out of draw along with a condom. Ray delivers him a stinging smack to ass for it, ordering him to keep still and then dragging sharp little nails across the hot skin. It’s enough to make Brad moan out load, hips arching up off the bed as he tries to find friction for his cock against the covers.

“None of that.” This time, Ray’s sharp slap is followed by another finger sinking into Brad, curling around to rub hard against his prostate.

“Enough,” Brad protests, making a half-hearted effort to squirm out of Ray’s grip. “I’m not some virgin pussy you need to prep for hours. I’m ready.”

Ray arches a single eyebrow, meeting Brad’s gaze over his shoulder as he deliberately strokes over Brad’s prostate again before pulling his fingers out.

“I want you on your back.” Brad turns quickly, grinning when Ray repositions his legs on the bed, shoves his thighs as wide as they’ll go and dribbles an ample dollop of lube onto the fake cock. He moans as he strokes, eyes screwed shut, and Brad wants to reach out and comfort him for a moment, reassure him that whatever this is that’s going on, they’ll find a way to fix it. This really isn’t the time though, and Brad’s twitching, leaking cock reminds him of the more pressing matters at hand.

It takes Ray a moment or two to get the fake dick under control, tiny experimental thrusts of his hips against the air that send Brad half mad with anticipation. He won’t beg, not yet, but he’s desperate to feel Ray inside him, to be filled properly for the first time in days.

“Ready?” Ray asks, leaning in and resting a hand on Brad’s chest for balance. The fake cock is cold and oddly unyielding against Brad’s hole. It burns a little as Ray bears his hips down, and for a second, Brad wonders if he really did need more prep, but then Ray wiggles his hips, biting down into his lower lip as the harness presses tight against his clit, the dildo finally sliding in.

For a second, they both just rest and breathe. The dildo feels oddly heavy now that it’s inside Brad, stiffer than a penis and colder than his insides. It’s not altogether unpleasant, ad Brad squeezes around it experimentally, rocking his hips just a little and watching Ray’s eyes fly open.

“Feel good?” he asks, making tiny thrusts with his hips, pushing the base of the dildo against Ray’s clit. It takes Ray a moment to get control of himself, but then his hands are pressing Brad’s chest into the mattress, giving him enough leverage to set up a rhythm of his own. He has the advantage of knowing just what Brad likes, pounding into him hard and fast, angling the head of his cock to rub up against Brad’s prostate each time. It’s deliciously rough, and Brad just lies back and takes it, one hand curling loosely around his own dick.

“Just like that Brad, yeah,” Ray’s mouth is back up to speed again too, a litany of dirt just rolling off his tongue. “Look at you taking my cock like a slut. You love it, don’t you, love it when I fuck you like this. Such a whore for my cock Brad.”

He’s found the perfect rhythm somehow, hips snapping hard and fast, the solid head of the dildo pressing mercilessly against Brad’s prostate with each thrust. Brad strokes himself faster, rubbing his thumb roughly over the sensitive head, chasing the electricity down his spine as he feels his orgasm build in the pit of his stomach.

“Ray,” he calls out, surprised at how raw his voice sounds.

“Oh yeah, come on. Come for me Brad,” Ray orders, nails digging bright red crescents into Brad’s skin as he struggles to thrust harder, faster, pushing Brad over the edge as heat floods through his body.

“Look at you,” Ray murmurs when the last wave has crashed and broken over him, leaving a satiated hum in Brad’s bones. Ray’s small breasts are slick with droplets of sweat that turn into tiny streams running down his belly to where the thick leather strap of the harness sits. Brad wants to lick them all away, to throw Ray onto his back, rip the harness off and make him come over and over on his fingers and his tongue. Sheer determination makes him stick to the plan though, sliding his hand up under the pillow until his fingers close on the remote.

Ray yowls with the force of the vibrations as Brad flicks the switch, hips stuttering as though he can’t quite work out what to do. Brad reaches out and grabs at the smaller man’s hips, rocking onto the dildo that’s still inside him to push the vibrations against Ray’s clit. He must have been on the edge already, because it only takes a few thrusts before Ray’s clutching at him, whole body shaking wildly as he comes.

“Fuck, Brad!” Ray yells, breath coming in tiny forced gasps as Brad ratchets the vibrations higher, determined to make his orgasm last for as long as possible. He stops when Ray stops shaking, holding out his arms so that Ray can collapse into them, sprawling out slick and shaky on his chest.

“That looked amazing,” he whispers, petting down Ray’s back until he can speak again.

“Gonna fuck you in front of the mirror next time,” Ray replies, nuzzling into Brad’s neck and getting more comfortable, the fake dick pressing hard into Brad’s stomach.

“That a promise?” Brad asks.

The End


End file.
